


This is why you don't do drugs, kids!

by cueonego



Series: Shassie Oneshots [2]
Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: Anal Sex, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27332770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cueonego/pseuds/cueonego
Summary: Spencer and Lassiter get dosed with a new street drug. Essentially a sex pollen trope that leads to a PWP. Dubcon just to be safe because they’re on drugs babey.
Relationships: Carlton Lassiter/Shawn Spencer
Series: Shassie Oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2197524
Comments: 7
Kudos: 106





	This is why you don't do drugs, kids!

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to get this out before kinktober was over but oh well! Here it is now. Enjoy!

The heat is first. As soon as they are exposed to the chemical, Lassiter feels woozy from his blood rushing. Within minutes, he is sweating like a pig. He looks over to Spencer, who is also clutching down onto his knees and trying to get his bearings.

He had only heard of the drug, which apparently is supposed to take over the MDMA sales in the streets. He knew it made people, _well_ , more acutely aware of their senses, but he can’t believe how fast it’s starting to spread throughout his systems.

Given that they’re dosed ten times the normal amount, it makes sense.

He grabs Spencer. They have to leave the club before the peak hits, and judging by their current state, it’s not too far away.

Spencer’s arm feels hefty over his shoulders. He feels the warmth and the damp underside of his arm. Normally he would find it disgusting, having to carry a limping, sweaty Spencer in close quarters.

But as they make it to the door, the sudden clench in his groin makes him keel over. He has to clutch onto Spencer, whether it’s helpful or not, just to make it to the car. Spencer’s smell next to him is intoxicating, but he needs to keep his head on straight.

Spencer heaves in his seat.

“What the hell is this, Lassie?”

“We gotta go, Spencer.”

There is no time to explain.

—————

Lassiter’s vision is blurry from the the beads of sweat rolling into his eyes. It’s a miracle they made it to his apartment in one piece.

He dumps Spencer onto the couch and tells him to stay the hell away from him, because he can’t guarantee that he will be able to hold himself back otherwise. The only way to pass the effects of the drug is to let it run its course, but he isn’t going to succumb to it. He has to.

He settles a chair far across from Spencer, so that he can monitor his state. So he can make sure Spencer doesn’t do anything stupid. So that he can stop himself from taking Spencer.

It’s going to be a long few hours.

“What’s happening, Lassie?” Spencer is curling into the couch with a grimace.

“We’ve been drugged.”

“I can see that! But what the hell is this?”

“It’s…” Lassiter trails. “It’s supposed to make you–”

“What? Incredibly _fucking_ horny?” Spencer snaps.

He’s not sure how to respond without making things awkward. Instead, he notices what Spencer has been doing. Lassiter growls from across the room.

“Spencer, stop that!”

Spencer has been humping the couch cushion ever since he started to feel the effects. He was subtle at first, gently shifting his weight here and there, but now that the effects are full blown, he’s shamelessly humping away, moans and groans included.

“Lassie, I can’t stop it! I need to, _aah_ , do this or I feel like I’m gonna die.”

“Control yourself,” Lassiter pants, as he’s loosening his tie and undoing his shirt buttons. He’s trying his best not to look. But it’s becoming hotter and hotter as he’s trying to restrain himself from doing just the same.

“ _Just,_ ” Spencer exclaims, shooting a frenzied glare as he’s squirming on the couch. “Look away if this bothers you so much.”

Lassiter stares at the wall above the couch, so that he can’t see Spencer in his distress. But he can still see the frantic movements on the outer edge of his vision.

Of course, he can _hear_ the whimpers and moans as well.

“I can still hear you, Spencer.”

“Put on your headphones or something, Lassie. I’m—, _fuck_ , I’m trying my best to be quiet—”

Spencer is cut short by his orgasm, and he’s letting out a choked cry. Lassiter can see him shuddering, clutching onto the cushion, then falling limp against the couch.

Lassiter feels his face redden from having seen something that’s so forbidden.

“ _Jesus_ , Spencer, that’s my couch.” He frets.

“I can’t stop it, Lassie.”

He is working up another agitated grind as he’s panting to catch his breath. Spencer is displeased with the situation as well, because it wasn’t necessarily his plan to fuck Lassiter’s couch this afternoon. But he can’t stop doing it, like his life depends on it.

The wetness inside his pants is working like lubrication, but his jeans are stiff and the fabric is uncomfortable, chafing against his legs.

Why was he humping inside his pants anyways?

He already came in front of Lassiter, inside his house, from fucking his couch, so there was nothing left of his dignity. Spencer decides it's better to seek out for the releases, and shoots up, leaving behind the couch cushions. He fumbles to take his pants off, but his hands aren’t working as fast as he’d like them to in his current state.

“Whoa, _whoa_!” Lassiter lunges in to stop Spencer’s exhibitionist behavior. “What do you think you are doing?!” His hands clutch at the fly, keeping it together with force. He winces at the the damp and sticky roughness of Spencer’s jeans.

“It’s _wet,_ and I have the right to freedom. Pants equals jail!” He’s not making much sense, but Lassiter understands. His own pants are feeling awful and constricting.

Spencer manages to squirm out of his jeans, discarding his boxers along the way.

“ _Oooh_ ,” Spencer exhales and stumbles back down onto the couch. “That’s more likely.”

Spencer is now jerking himself off with determination in front of Lassiter. At least he has more restraint, Lassiter thinks. Spencer is shameless in his way of freeing himself and obeying what his cock is telling him to do.

“Feel free to join me Lassie, you have no idea how good it feels to cum, it’s so different, it’s like, magical oh— _fuck_ ,”

Spencer is red hot, and his cock also looks so red and _slick_. It looks almost fake, like a dildo, because of how obscene it looks. It doesn’t take much for him to come again; Spencer bucks into his own hand, and he’s coming for the second time.

Lassiter is standing frozen in front of Spencer. He knows he should walk away, but he can smell the sex around Spencer and the way he keeps pleasuring himself looks so _damn_ inviting. He wants to take Spencer, right then and there on the couch.

It takes a lot of his willpower to turn himself away back to his chair. But he still hears the wet _schlick_ and the slaps as Spencer continues pumping himself.

“I can’t, _can’t_ believe you still haven’t come, Lassie. I’m dying here.” Spencer whines, his voice breathy.

Lassiter knows that if he starts, there’s no way of stopping. He’s been holding it back, but he can feel the precome leaking, wetting the inside of his boxers. And it’s a lot of it. It’s so unfair. He’s not doing anything, but it’s leaking an outrageous amount already.

“Just, shut up, Spencer. Shut up. I’m trying to— I’m trying. _Okay_?”

But Spencer has an itch he cannot reach. He can pleasure himself with his hands all he likes, but it’s not getting any more satisfying.

“But Lassie, I need you. I need you to— _mmh_ ”

“What?”

“I can’t fucking reach inside my ass.”

Lassiter chokes on his own spit. When he looks over to Spencer, he sees his legs spread apart on the couch, his fingers already having disappeared inside his hole.

“ _No way_.” Lassiter gulps. “There is no way.”

Spencer lets out a frustrated sigh and stumbles towards Lassiter’s chair, grabbing a handful of his shirt. Lassiter is yanked out of his seat, and their bodies come flush against each other. Despite his efforts to move back, Spencer’s grip keeps on pulling him in.

“Just, fucking do it already, Lassie.” says Spencer, taking Lassiter’s hand and placing it on his ass. It’s warm, and he wants to squeeze it so hard and make it his.

But he shouldn’t. Lassiter presses his eyes shut, trying drown out the sensations. “You’re not yourself. You’re going to regret it later.” He repeats it like a mantra.

But Spencer, in his frenzied state, is so much stronger than he is normally. He pulls Lassiter’s shirt open and lays his mouth across his collarbones, wet and sloppy. Lassiter lets out a shaky huff. He’s slowly reaching his limit, kiss by kiss, touch by touch.

“Stop this now, Spencer.”

Lassiter is practically vibrating from having held himself back for this long. He carefully puts his hand on Spencer’s shoulders. He wants to push him away, but he ends up gripping tightly onto him as Spencer sucks on his neck.

Spencer probably knows that he wants to do what he’s suggesting. He’s always wanted to. But Spencer isn’t in his right mind and he needs to hold himself accountable, avoid taking advantage of Spencer in his current state.

To be honest, he’s afraid of what he’s going to do to Spencer if he succumbs to his desires. He wants to fuck him, rough and fast without any regard for his well-being. He wants to take him and pleasure himself over and over, however much it takes to get this out of his system.

He’s given him plenty of warnings.

But Spencer never listens to him, that bastard. He yanks Lassiter’s belt buckle and shoves his way into his pants, wrapping his hands around Lassiter’s cock.

Lassiter lets out a pornographic moan, because _fuck_ , he’s nearly coming from a single stroke from Spencer. Spencer’s hands are already slick from his unconscionable amount of precome. He knows he should stop, but he can’t help but buckle into Spencer’s hand.

“ _Mmh_ – Spencer, _please_ , we can’t.”

“I need this, Lassie. Please, I’ve always wanted this.” He pauses to look at Lassiter dead in his eyes. “Wanted _you_.”

The world is so cruel, allowing him to hear Spencer say the exact things he wanted to hear for a long time. He wants to believe that it’s the truth, that they’re both willing to do this. He steadies his breath and finally meets Spencer in his gaze.

He always thought the douchey smirk was the pillar of Spencer’s facial expressions, showing his tendency to never take anything with gravity. But Lassiter can’t find any of the playful smirk he normally has across his face. He looks so different, the shift in his attitude almost scary. He feels that Spencer is telling the truth for the first time.

It finally snaps.

Lassiter pushes Spencer onto the couch and shoves him face down. With his hand across Spencer’s back, Lassiter straddles his ass, his cock sliding between his cheeks. There’s already so much cum pooled between his ass, from the multiple orgasms Spencer has already had.

Spencer has his air knocked out when he’s planted onto the couch, but finally feeling Lassiter’s lean yet strong body makes it all worth it. Lassiter’s cock is hot as it brushes past by his hole back and forth, and he pushes his hips back so he can feel more of Lassiter.

Lassiter gladly takes the invitation and rocks his hips between Spencer’s ass, and _god_ , it’s so slick and hot. Spencer’s ass is so supple that he comes only after a few strokes between his ass.

Spencer is right, it feels incredible, a heady chill courses throughout his body and he remains stiff, all the muscles in his body feeling like it’s exploding into light.

It’s a shame that it’s only momentary.

He feels his cock bobbing up again. With no time to appreciate his orgasm fully, he’s back to being frustrated. He spins Spencer around and they kiss, making no effort to shield the couch from the bodily fluids.

Their cocks brush against each other, and Spencer brings both of his hands to hold their cocks together. Lassiter pulls Spencer’s chin in for a hungry kiss, sucking on his lips and marking them with playful bites. He knows he should feel ashamed for losing himself like this, giving into his primal desires, but he can’t think about anything else other than Spencer at this moment.

It’s slippery and damp when their foreheads rub against each other. He tastes Spencer’s sweat on his lips as he drags them across his cheeks. Spencer’s hair is sticking onto his forehead; he’s in utter disarray.

He also feels himself coming undone each time the tip of his cock brushes against Spencer’s. He knows Spencer is close too, hearing the quiet scattered gasps and feeling the flexing of his stomach under his skin. They come together once more, moans spilling into each other’s mouth.

He’s out of breath, and Spencer looks as though he’s going to explode. But without any hesitation, Spencer guides Lassiter’s cock inside his ass. It’s so tight and warm that Lassiter can’t move, not without coming inside Spencer. Stifled moans turn into shaky huffs, escaping his mouth in silence. He needs a moment to adjust, but Spencer is eager; he’s busy rocking his hips down on Lassiter’s cock.

Spencer hikes his ass up and adjusts the angle to his liking. Lassiter wants this moment to last, savor it, but he knows he is close to having another orgasm, especially if Spencer’s ass keeps on clenching onto him, his body flexing as he hits the sweet spot over and over. Spencer is crying out, whispering sweet nothings into his ears.

Spencer’s hands clutch onto Lassiter’s back, pulling him closer. Between the tight embrace, Spencer shudders and comes with a grunt. Lassiter feels the cock pulsing and warmth spreading underneath his belly, and Spencer’s stomach rippling underneath him. He can feel every inch of Spencer’s body, and it feels _intensely_ intimate that he wants to hold onto Spencer forever.

But he’s so close too. Spencer kisses him and sucks on his neck that’s bound to leave a red mark. A few more strokes and he’s coming hard, his fingers digging into Spencer’s shoulders, giving him back a red mark of his own.

Lassiter slumps on top of Spencer, but he is still rocking his hips slowly inside Spencer. Spencer still has his arms slinging around Lassiter and squirming his hips. Every time they feel their cocks stimulated, they shudder. They’re both exhausted and spent, but they are still enjoying the sensations they’re bringing each other.

They both don’t feel the need to break the silence. Lassiter buries his head between Spencer’s neck, and Spencer’s hands caress his backside. They drift asleep as their movements still and breaths slow down.

—————

It’s dark outside when Lassiter opens his eyes. His entire body is sore and he feels sticky. His head throbs from dehydration, and his arm is dead from the weight of...

“ _Gah_! Get off of me, Spencer!”

Spencer falls from the couch, the thud muffled by the carpet underneath him. Lassiter sees his head pop up beside him, his hands rubbing his sides.

“Ouch,” Spencer says, his voice hoarse. “Way to hurt a man’s feelings.”

Spencer is back to making his quips. He should scoff it off, but it feels like his stomach is taking a nosedive. Like an elevator falling down its shaft, bumpy and jerky and scraping.

Things are back to normal, and he has to face the consequences of his inexcusable behavior.

“Spencer, _Shawn_ ,” he corrects himself. “I fucked up.”

The silence of the night is deafening, but the moonlight is bright enough for him to see Spencer’s face.

“It’s okay, Lassie. I wanted it.”

By this time the drug should have worn off, but he wonders if Spencer is still feeling the residual effects of the drug. Spencer’s eyes aren’t wavering, holding steady on his face. Just like when he told him that he wanted him.

A gentle smile spreads across Spencer’s mouth.

“I think you liked it too, Lassie.”

Lassiter blushes. He can’t deny it.

“We should…”

“ _Yeah_ , we should.” Spencer stands up, placing his hand on Lassiter’s thighs, like this is what they do, like this is how things are going to be from now on.

Casual intimacy.

But there is a hint of restrain in his touch, as if he’s not sure if Lassiter is feeling the same. Lassiter puts his hand on top of Spencer’s assuredly. He wants to show him that he liked it too.

As he shifts his weight to sit up, he notices the state of their clothes. They’re stained, missing their buttons, and messy. Spencer notices what Lassiter is seeing too.

“Oops.” Spencer smiles. “Do you have something I can borrow?”

“Yeah,” says Lassiter, holding back his smile. “Come here.”

He squeezes his hand before leading Spencer into his bedroom.


End file.
